


The World Was Built For Two

by agetwellcard



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Post-Split
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agetwellcard/pseuds/agetwellcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s like." Brendon swallows roughly, not sure how to tell anyone anything he's thinking. "It’s like everything I touch just falls to pieces."</p><p>"It happens," Ryan shrugs. He just stands there and wants Brendon to accept these things. He wants Brendon to just be okay with what's going on with him, like how Sarah had to leave, and the band fell apart, and how Brendon’s completely severed off every real friendship he's ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Was Built For Two

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I did when I didn't feel like writing anything else. Title is shamelessly taken from the Lana Del Rey song "Video Games".

Brendon leans against the brick wall, the cotton on his t-shit rubbing against it uncomfortably. He digs through his pocket to find a pack of cigarettes and a spare lighter. With shaky hands, he lights the cigarette easily, the eerie red glow soothing Brendon. He takes a long drag, putting the pack and lighter away. He swallows bitterly and looks up to the sky. 

Someone comes up next to him, leaning up against the same building as Brendon. Brendon thinks he's already had this moment before, like the déjà vu is almost too much to handle. He doesn't need to look over to know who it is. He also doesn't look over to see him lighting his own cigarette. 

"So you smoke now?" Brendon asks him, finally rolling his head on the brick to see Ryan expelling a plume of smoke. 

"More of hobby, I guess," he shrugs, his usual indifference radiating off of him. 

The party is shitty, just like Brendon thought it would be. It’s one of those LA parties that he didn't even need to snag an invite to; Brendon just had a few friends who drove him here. He couldn't stand it inside though. Everyone seemed too happy, and Brendon genuinely thought that maybe he was ready for these kinds of things. He didn't want to stay inside and write melodramatic music that he would never release. He was wrong.

It only makes sense that Ryan would show up to one of these parties. He looks great, and Brendon doesn't need some girl to point that out right before they hit on him. That’s usually before they realize what a fucking mess he is. Sure, he's calm and collected on the outside, his silly band shirt looking just worn enough under his leather jacket, but he's never had a clue how to control his life. We’ve always been alike like that.

"You've heard then?" Brendon asks him timidly. He was going to just avoid the topic, but he figures Ryan is most likely the easiest to get sympathy from.  
Ryan looks away from Brendon, probably because he doesn't want to watch him look pathetic. More pathetic than he's ever been. "I guess," he says slowly. "It’s not like it's my business anymore."

There's a brief silence, one where Brendon wonders if Ryan just left him here, but he realizes that he can still feel his body heat, Ryan standing just close enough. Brendon tries not to make the way he leans closer noticeable. Ryan’s always been a drug, and his presence has these catastrophic results with Brendon. 

"It’s like." Brendon swallows roughly, not sure how to tell anyone anything he's thinking. He hasn't needed a reason to say anything, his friends deciding it's probably best to not question his behavior. "It’s like everything I touch just falls to pieces."

"It happens," Ryan shrugs. He just stands there and wants Brendon to accept these things. he wants Brendon to just be okay with what's going on with him, like how Sarah had to leave, and the band fell apart, and how Brendon’s completely severed off every real friendship he's ever had. 

"What am I doing wrong?" Brendon asks desperately, nearly forgetting about the cigarette in-between his fingers. It doesn't seem that great anymore. Brendon puts it out quickly, not liking the way it seems to be taunting him. 

Ryan leans off from the wall and stomps out his cigarette too. Ryan is graceless and shameless as he pulls Brendon into a hug, his wiry arms winding around Brendon’s torso. He smells just like tobacco and some cologne that is probably ridiculously overpriced. It’s calming right away, Ryan’s breath hot on his shoulder. Brendon closes his eyes and has a feeling Ryan is doing the same. They just stand there like that for so long that Brendon loses track of time. 

When Ryan finally pulls apart, he grabs for Brendon’s hand. Brendon thinks of when they used to do that for fun, teasingly dancing in the back lounge to songs from Ryan’s iPod. Those moments tug at Brendon’s stomach, making him think that he really missed out on everything he's ever wanted.

Ryan guides him to a car, pushing Brendon into the passenger seat and closing the door for him. The ride is silent, and Brendon doesn't think of all his friends back at the party. Ryan doesn't even play any of his music. Brendon wonders what kind of music he listens to these days. Brendon looks out the window and watches as all the pretty people of LA walk on the streets, the traffic worse than usual on a Saturday night. 

They arrive at must be Ryan’s house. It’s not like Brendon has ever been curious about where he lives. Now, though, he wants to know what Ryan has been doing all these years of silence, what kind of magic has been happening inside the walls of his fortress. It’s not very clean when Brendon steps through the door, but Brendon doesn’t mind because his house looks the same now. It’s empty like Brendon’s too. Always empty and quiet and never enough for him.

When Ryan brings him to his room, to his California queen, Brendon realizes the last thing he wants to do is be in bed with Ryan Ross. 

"Can we--" Brendon’s not sure how to phrase his words. 

Ryan nods easily, obviously understanding what it is he means. He simply grabs some blankets and a few pillows, heading towards what appears to be a bathroom. Brendon smiles, just enough to where people might start asking him if he's feeling better, and follows Ryan. With the lights still off, but light spilling in from the open door, Ryan is putting down blankets in the bathtub, putting a pillow at either end.

He turns to Brendon, putting his hands in his pocket awkwardly. "I never use this shower. The water's only cold for some reason," Ryan offers up. 

Brendon pushes past him and sits down, leaning against the pillow comfortably. They’ve done this before. One hotel night too long ago, when they used to go to the ritziest hotels, they spent a whole night across from each other, just staring at one another and letting all their secrets pass past their mouths. That was, of course, after they joked about how many people have probably had sex in the shower.

Brendon doesn’t ask Ryan if he's had sex in this shower. 

Ryan gets in after Brendon, their feet tangling together. Brendon lolls his head back against the shower wall and thinks about how much time has passed since they've talked properly. Brendon realizes how absurd it is to be here now.

"So it's finally done with?" Ryan asks softly after a few moments of silence have fluttered away easily.

Brendon assumes he's talking about the band. "it took a while, didn't it?" Brendon smiles bitterly. "I felt like I had nothing left with that name. I was just dragging it in the dirt and singing songs that meant nothing to me." 

“And Sarah?” 

Brendon shakes his head, not sure if he even wants to talk about all of this so soon. “I loved her. I know I did. I guess I was just some pastime or prize or… something.” Brendon can’t bring himself to blame himself for their divorce. 

“I think this is the first time we’ve ever been alone at the same time,” Ryan says wistfully. 

“I don’t think the universe wants us to be together.”

“Always has.”

Ryan moves from his spot at the end of the tub, crawling over to Brendon. Ryan straddles his hips and stops his face a few mere centimeters from Brendon’s. It’s not surprising that they end up kissing, lips gentle and never as furious as they once were. Brendon used to want everyone from Ryan because he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get the chance to have him again. Now, though, Brendon can’t bring himself to worry. 

Ryan pulls back, takes another long look at Brendon and then lies beside him. He wraps an arm around his torso and they lie face to face. Brendon instinctively puts his face into the crook of Ryan’s neck, Ryan’s fingers finding Brendon’s hair. He lightly plays his locks, gentleness about him that Brendon never realized he missed. 

Ryan sighs. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”


End file.
